


All the Sinners Saints

by potentiality_26



Category: Thorne (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Fix-It, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12550436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentiality_26/pseuds/potentiality_26
Summary: "If it's done right," Phil said, "Sarah should be able to get herself clean and come back one day.  We could use her."  He eyed Tom.  “Or did you get up on your high horse and forget that none of us have entirely clean hands?”Tom shook his head, though he knew Phil might be right.  He might have forgotten things he shouldn’t have.  Sarah fucked up, there was no denying it- but so did he, after all.  He might not be willing to admit it to anyone but Phil, but he would admit it.  Getting shot had a way of putting things in perspective, and maybe- hopefully- not just for him.  “You in a forgiving mood, Phil?” he asked quietly.Palmer shoots Tom instead of Sarah.





	All the Sinners Saints

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from "Sympathy for the Devil." I'm saving Sarah because a) I don't feel like dealing with that particular angst today and b) she did some really stupid stuff but there's a lot of that going around in _Thorne_ and I don't see why she's gotta die for it.
> 
> Not Brit-picked.

“Where am I?” Tom asked blearily as he woke up. 

“Hospital,” a curly-headed shape replied from the far corner of the room.  The shape materialized into Phil when Tom blinked enough in that direction.  “Your dad’s getting coffee.”  Phil sat forward in his chair.  “You been awake a couple times before, but never too lucid."

"Don't remember."  He felt lucid enough now, though.  Through the antiseptic smell and over-brightness of the hospital, Tom felt he was thinking as clearly as ever. 

Phil nodded.  "Do you remember what happened?”

Tom remembered... shouting.  A gun.  He remembered...  “Sarah- is she-”

“She’s fine,” Phil told him.  “Shaken up, you know, but feeling lucky to be alive.  She's gonna have to hold on to that."

"To get through rehab, you mean?"  Tom hadn't been reading Phil very well lately- maybe he hadn't ever read Phil all that well- but suddenly he could tell that Phil had decided what happened in that patch of scrub land wouldn't be the end of the road for Sarah Chen.  He'd been a soft touch for users in the past, Tom thought- perhaps uncharitably.  Maybe Sarah was about to become one of them. 

"If it's done right," Phil said, "Sarah should be able to get herself clean and come back one day. We could use her." He eyed Tom. “Or did you get up on your high horse and forget that none of us have entirely clean hands?”

Tom shook his head, though he knew Phil might be right. He might have forgotten things he shouldn’t have. Sarah fucked up, there was no denying it- but so did he, after all. He might not be willing to admit it to anyone but Phil, but he would admit it. Getting shot had a way of putting things in perspective, and maybe- hopefully- not just for him. “You in a forgiving mood, Phil?” he asked quietly.

Phil made an annoyed sound.  “If I am, it’s because you were even luckier than Sarah.  The shot didn’t hit anything vital mainly because you were moving.  Flinging yourself in _my_ direction.” 

Slowly, Tom remembered that too.  He remembered seeing a change come over Palmer’s features as the part of him that blamed Tom for all his problems and wanted Tom to blame himself as well until the end of his days was suddenly superseded by the part of him that wanted the end of Tom's days to come straightaway.  And Tom remembered thinking that Phil was so close behind him.  _Too_ close behind him.  What if Palmer was aiming at Tom but missed?  Or what if he changed his mind a third time and didn’t aim at Tom at all?  And in the split second he had to think, to move, between Palmer’s face contorting and Palmer actually pulling the trigger, Tom got as far in front of Phil as he could. 

For a while, Phil waited- like he expected Tom to make excuses or even apologize.  He wouldn’t, though.  He would apologize for what he said and did- for what he _thought_ \- during the Calvert case every day for the rest of their lives if he had to, but he wouldn’t apologize for this.  Frankly, he would've taken a bullet sooner if he thought it might warm Phil to him again. 

He chose not to say so aloud.  “And Dave?”

“Accepting accolades for making the arrest.”  Phil still sounded annoyed, though whether it was about what Tom did, Tom in general, or Dave and his accolades Tom didn’t know. 

“He’s going to fuck up his marriage if he’s not careful,” Tom heard himself murmur, even though Phil was unlikely to know what he was talking about.  Tom wasn’t in much pain, and he still woozy.  The hospital was giving him some high-quality drugs, clearly, and if they had to damage his brain-to-mouth filter like this he was glad to have said only that.  He had never promised to keep Dave and Sarah’s little tryst a secret, and even if he had no one kept secrets like Phil. 

Phil snorted.  “You’re the relationship expert now, are you?”

Far from it.  Tom's relationship, such as it was, with Anne Coburn hadn't lasted much past him getting her daughter back- and he had certainly never been married, though he was once engaged to be.  And the end of _that_ wasn’t like he told Anne- at least not completely.  It was true that she had wanted kids, and that after seeing those three little girls lying there Tom hadn’t been able to deal with that, but their ultimate separation had as much to do with all the times he was out somewhere with Phil instead of at home as with any children they might've had.  

Their fourth or fifth- or tenth or eleventh- fight of that year had ground to a halt as he sputtered _are you- are you_ jealous?  _Phil doesn’t- just because he’s_ gay _doesn’t mean he-_

 _It’s not like that_ , she had said in turn- so softly, suddenly, that it scared him.  _Or maybe it is a little._   _But what I mean is… you’ve got this inner life that you don’t share with me, but you do with him.  And what do I get, huh?  What do I get?_    

Whichever fight that had been, it had also been their last.  Things had been amicable, if cold, after that- because he acknowledged that he hadn’t been doing right by her, acknowledged that she deserved better.  And he _had_ tried to be better for a while, but it was like they both knew what was between them was falling apart.  Sometimes things broke and they couldn’t be fixed. 

And Tom looked at Phil now and fully articulated in his mind something that he hadn’t since he first apologized to him about the Calvert thing and realized that it wouldn’t be that easy.  Sometimes things broke and they couldn’t be fixed, but _this_ had to be.  Otherwise what was the point of Palmer’s bullet not hitting anything vital? 

It was only when Phil spoke again that it occurred to Tom just how long he had been silent: “What about you?” Phil asked.

Tom blinked.  “What about me?”

“You asked about everybody else,” Phil said.  “What about how _you_ are?”  

“You said the bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”  Tom was alive, Sarah was alive, Phil was alive- how much else really mattered?

Phil scrubbed a hand over his face, eyes slightly wild- as if he didn't know where he got the strength to deal with Tom all this time.  “Do you think nobody would care if you died?  That what this is?”  

All these years of friendship, and Tom still wasn’t very good at recognizing that Phil was stewing about something until it was too late.  And he had been stewing, hadn’t he?  Ever since Tom’s little joke about his obituary.  Tom shook his head.  His dad would miss him, of course.  It might even destroy him, to lose his son so soon after his wife.  Ruth would miss him.  Even Kevin would miss him, just a little, though he would never admit it.  “I’ve not been weighing my life and finding it wanting lately, Phil.  I was hardly thinking.  I just- I couldn’t lose you.  Not even if you’ll never-”

Phil stood up suddenly.  “Your dad'll back soon,” he said.  “And I've gotta get home.” 

However badly this last one had turned out, Tom was still a gambling man.  He would bet, now, that he could make Phil stay if he set his mind to it.  He couldn’t do it physically, of course, he couldn’t leave his bed- but he could still do it.  He had managed to put a crack in the wall Phil had constructed between them by bombarding it with work until he helped.  Now things were still strained, but there was something- a kind of potential- that hadn’t been there before.  Now Tom could play on that, or he could let Phil go- for now.  "All right," he said. 

Phil nodded jerkily and left. 

And -angry as he still was- he timed his exit well.  Tom was hardly alone for a minute before his dad did come back- a cup of coffee in either hand.  He blinked when he surveyed the room.  “Where did Phil go?”

“He said you’d be back and he was going home.”  His father's surprise was clear, and Tom realized that though Phil had implied- probably intentionally- that he was only there because Tom’s dad couldn’t be and they didn't want Tom waking up alone, it wasn’t the truth.

His dad’s lips flattened out.  He dragged the chair that Phil had vacated closer to the bed and sat down, sipping his coffee fitfully.  “You’ve been out a long time,” he said.  “And he’s not left your side for a minute.”

“I know, Dad,” Tom said- because whatever Phil had told him, he did- suddenly- know. 

“Did you know you almost died?”

That surprised Tom.  “He said the bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”

“It didn’t.  But that didn’t stop you nearly bleeding out all the same.  You might not have made it, if it wasn’t for him.  Paramedics had to drag him off you and all.”

Tom just nodded.  There wasn't much else he could do.

“What’s going on with you two?  Maureen-” his dad’s voice cracked a little- “wouldn’t like you fighting.”

Tom knew that too.  “I... did something,” he admitted.  “Something... something there might not be any going back from.”  Even having convinced himself that that wouldn’t- couldn’t- actually be the case, Tom still felt like something in his chest had caved in when he said the words aloud.  They hurt almost as much as getting shot had. 

“No such thing.  Not with you two.”

“I just- I dunno.”  His dad simply couldn’t understand this without knowing exactly what he had done, and Tom didn't intend to tell him.  _I thought he might have murdered all those women_ just wouldn’t come across at all well.  His dad had always been a little less comfortable with Phil, and with their friendship, than his mum had been- but even so there was a distinct chance that if Tom explained what actually happened, his dad might stop talking to him for a while too.  It was... catastrophically stupid. 

“You know...”  His dad started, and then fell silent a moment later. 

“What, Dad?”

“Your mother sometimes thought that you two would end up together.”

“Phil doesn’t,” Tom started, only realizing once he had already spoken that he had said this same thing to someone once before.  “Just because he-”

His dad put his hands up, like they had been over this already, which they had.  It was only once, and only very early in their friendship, but his dad had made it pretty clear just why he thought Phil was friends with Tom in the first place.  Because he wanted in his pants.  Tom had been offended on his own behalf as much as Phil’s- what kind of friend was he, if his own father thought that was all he was good for?

But Phil had never made a move- and if a tiny part of Tom had actually been hoping he would, he buried it very deep indeed.

It was coming a little unearthed now, though, as his father said, “She thought he did.  And she thought one day you would too.”  When Tom just stared, his dad kept going relentlessly: “I don’t know if I’d say that she was hoping for it, but it did... it did hurt her when he wasn’t there with you.”

That much was something else Tom already knew.  He had done his best to keep it from her, especially there at the end, that things weren’t good between them.  But Phil was... everywhere.  He was in everything.  Up under Tom’s skin and tucked away in corners of his life he hadn’t realized he had until Phil was suddenly absent.  There was no missing all the places he wasn’t once he’d cut Tom off- not for Tom, and not for Maureen either. 

His dad cleared his throat, jarring in the sudden silence.  “Well,” he said.  “Just a thought.”

They both stayed quiet for a while after that.  Eventually Tom's dad drifted off in his seat, despite the coffee.  Tom listened to him snore and tried to figure out what he should do, if there was anything he could do, any way to make this better.  There were things he needed Phil’s help to figure out, things he always had.  Why did this have to one of them?

Eventually Tom himself fell asleep.  He just shut his eyes and when he opened them again Phil was back- and closer, in a chair now right up against Tom's bed.  He was sleeping too, though he didn't have his head resting on the covers like in the movies- _unfortunately_ , Tom caught himself thinking.  This wasn’t the first time his fingers had itched to be buried in Phil’s curls, but it was the first time in a while that he let himself feel that itch, let himself think about indulging it.  They were alone again; his dad had probably gone to get a shower or some proper sleep.  By the looks of him, Phil had done neither of those things.  His elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair and his chin was on his palm, his lips hanging a little slack.  His other hand lay on the bed, though, and it was close enough for Tom to creep his own forward and give Phil’s fingers a squeeze.

Phil came awake and jerked upright sharply, saying, “Sorry,” as he went.

“What've you got to be sorry for?” Tom asked, managing to keep hold of Phil’s hand, though only just. 

Phil was blinking furiously to take him in.  “Fucking nothing,” he said. 

Tom couldn’t help smiling stupidly.  While he was asleep someone might have upped his dose of whatever had been making him feel so good so far, because it was enough that he could easily focus on how adorable Phil was when he was grumpy, and easily forget that Phil might never not be grumpy around him ever again. 

Phil’s lips twitched faintly as he looked back at Tom- a sign of thawing in him that Tom found desperately encouraging. 

“I’m glad you came back, Phil,” he said.

Phil’s mouth twisted further, making him look pleased and melancholy at once.  It wasn’t as though Tom hadn’t known already that Phil cared.  Even when he was furious, Phil always cared- and he had shown that he still did in a million tiny ways since they fell out- but there was something just a little bit different now.  Something that Tom really, really hoped meant that he had a shot at fixing this after all.  Phil hadn’t yet managed to get his hand back, and Tom ran his thumb across the back of it, just lightly. 

Tom wasn't- and had never been- a physically demonstrative man.  Maybe that was the only reason something so small felt so... intense. 

Maybe not, though- because Phil let out a shuddering breath, and then he gave a laugh that didn’t go anywhere close to his eyes.  “You’re on the good drugs,” he said. 

“No,” Tom said.  Then, “Yes.  But it’s not...”  Tom didn’t- couldn’t- finish his thought.

“No?” Phil asked, eyes sharpening, lips thinning.  

“I just want...”

And again Tom couldn’t finish.  It hit him all in a rush, the multitude of ways he could end that sentence.  _I just want things to go back to normal,_ that was the most obvious choice.  It was probably the one Phil was expecting him to make, since Tom had been saying it in every way he knew how for what felt like an age- but as fuzzy as Tom’s mind was right now one thing became suddenly, painfully clear.  Normal had been fucked between them for a long time. 

He thought about how Phil looked at him sometimes, about the pain always behind his eyes.  Maybe that was just the way things had been since Frank Calvert.  Maybe not, though.  Maybe it came later, or maybe... maybe it came before.  There were times, in Tom’s memory, when it was like what their normal was and what Phil wanted it to be were so far apart they were on different planets.  Tom had spent a long time dismissing that because Phil was Phil, and Phil didn’t wait around for things he didn’t think he could have, and lately... Lately things had been different.  It made Tom doubt his perceptions.  He had doubted his perceptions a lot since he got Phil so wrong that day.  And right now Tom wasn’t sure what would be worse- if he was wrong about this too, if his mum and his ex and even his dad had all been wrong, and Phil had never wanted him, or if he had once but he didn't anymore.  If Tom had wrecked that too in one stupid, stupid moment. 

If he hadn’t wrecked it, though, that was big.  That was terrifying, because Tom had always been better at fucking up the things that mattered than he had been at making them better.  There were times when Tom thought they only made it this far because Phil was so damned stubborn, and he had always fought for them.  And he wasn’t fighting for them now.    

But maybe it was also promising, because Tom couldn’t go back in time and not kill Frank Calvert, no matter how much he might want to.  But he might be able to do this.

What had he said to his ex that time, and to his dad just now?  _Phil doesn’t._   Not _I don’t._   Not _I’m not.  Phil doesn’t._

So what if Phil did?

Slowly, carefully, Tom ran his fingertips over the back of Phil's hand again, working up to a slender wrist, to cool bangles and the coiling shape of a tattoo.  He wasn’t sure how he would even begin- this business of trying to seduce Phil.  But maybe if he played his cards right he wouldn’t have to.  Maybe Phil would tell him what to do. 

Maybe not, though.  For a second Phil’s eyes went as raw and wide as Tom had ever seen them- including the moment after he realized what Tom thought, what Tom was asking him, that day in what remained of the Calvert house- and then he shot up and moved far enough away that Tom couldn’t touch him if he wanted to.

"Look,” Phil said suddenly.  He was moving, doing a half turn the way he did sometimes when he was feeling something strongly- like his body couldn’t hold all that was inside him and remain still.  He brought his hand up to his face, passing it over his eyes, then down to his mouth- freezing when he realized that it was the same hand Tom had touched now on his lips.  It was promising, Tom thought.  Suggestive.  That Phil was aware of Tom clumsily opening up a door just then.  That Phil might indeed want to go through.  “I forgive you, all right?”

Tom blinked at him.    

“Emotions were running high and you-” Phil choked.  “It was stupid and fucked up but I forgive you, so- friends, yeah?  It’s fine.  We’re fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine, Phil,” Tom said, as evenly as he could.  And did Phil sound a little... bitter, as he said it?  _Friends_?  And if he did, was it just because he was still angry, or was it for another reason? 

Phil made a noise that frankly didn’t sound quite human.  “It’s not,” he finally admitted, on the move again.  “It’s not fine, but it’s gonna have to be if you're doing..." Phil came to a stop at Tom's side again.  "What are you doing?" 

That was the question- and this was rather the moment of truth.  "I'm trying to figure out if you wanted things to be... different."  He caught Phil's hand again, the heat of him almost electric.  "If you still do."

He hadn't done a great job of explaining himself just then- but it was enough that Phil's eyes widened and he sat down on the edge of Tom’s bed like his legs weren’t doing the job of holding him up anymore.  Tom was comfortable with that, because Phil’s hip brushed up against his leg, and he felt pleasantly warm and solid. 

"Because if you did..."  Tom tugged on Phil's hand.  Phil allowed himself to be drawn a little closer, his eyes unfocused like he wasn’t even sure what was happening right then, like he couldn’t process it at all, but it was enough for Tom to lift a hand and touch his face, fingertips brushing against his curls. 

“Jesus,” Phil breathed.  He let Tom’s hand slide around to the back of his neck, let Tom pull him closer until he was right up against his face- close enough for Tom to smell slightly stale breath and see every single thing that went through his eyes- and then he went still.  Stopped so suddenly and totally he might as well have been made of stone.  “I said I forgive you.”

“I said I was sorry,” Tom pointed out.  “It wasn’t enough, was it?”

Phil’s face contorted.  “What are you _doing_?" he asked again.

“I was actually hoping I could kiss you, Phil.”

“Jesus,” Phil repeated, but he let Tom put a little more pressure on his neck and close the final distance between them- and then Tom was kissing him.  Phil wasn’t really kissing him back, but his lips were soft and yielding and for a while that was just fine, but eventually it wasn’t enough.

“Come on,” Tom said against his lips.  “Phil, just- please.”

It was garbled, but it did the trick.  Phil finally did something, finally got closer of his own accord.  One of his hands came to rest on the pillow next to Tom’s head, holding his body up over Tom’s to kiss him back.  And kiss him back he did- frankly that was an understatement.  He licked into Tom’s mouth like he was going to have to write a report about every corner of it later.  His lips were rough, but the rest of him was careful, his other hand coming up to smooth over Tom’s forehead while the other was still holding him up.  It was clearly at the fore of his mind that Tom was hurt, that he could easily hurt him more, and Tom wasn’t entirely sure what it was that most had his heartbeat kicking up a notch- enough to register on the monitor at his side: that Phil was finally taking something he had clearly wanted for a long time but still trying to protect Tom while he did it, or that it probably wouldn’t take much more for Phil to forget that he needed protecting altogether. 

Or maybe it would take a lot more- because Phil broke the kiss suddenly, and though he was breathing heavily the first place he looked was the damn monitor. 

Tom didn’t want Phil to stop, not at all, but he had to admit- “This'll be easier once I’m out of here.”

“Right,” Phil whispered.  “Easier.”  He drew back a little, but his hand was still there on the pillow next to Tom’s head.  His gaze went unfocused again, flickering all over Tom’s face without seeming to settle anywhere in particular until his eyes found Tom’s lips.  Then they shut tightly.  “I really do forgive you, yeah?  So this... this game you’re playing, or this penance _thing_ , or- or whatever it is can stop.  Just... _stop_.” 

Tom realized what Phil thought all in a rush.  He didn't know what to say, what to do, next.  He had gotten Phil wrong once before, after all, and it had nearly destroyed both of them.  Suddenly he wasn’t sure how to make sure that never happened again.  Suddenly he wondered if they weren’t just... bad for each other and trying to pretend otherwise.  What he had once thought Phil capable of, however briefly and stupidly.  What Phil clearly thought he was capable of now.     

And the thing was... Tom wasn’t sure he was wrong about that.  Tom wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do anything, anything it took to keep Phil with him.  And _this_ was such a small thing in the larger scheme of what Tom would do for him.  Phil had probably been too angry to think about it at the time, but if he had thought about it he would probably have noticed that Tom didn’t confront him like a suspect.  He would probably have realized that Tom had never really planned to make an arrest that day. 

It made them dangerous, Tom thought.  That he had liked kissing Phil, that the thought of being closer to him made him warm and tingly all over and didn't feel at all like penance or a sacrifice, ultimately came second to the fact that there was maybe something _wrong_ with them.  Whether they were lovers or friends or coworkers who pretended not to care about each other anymore but _did_ , far too deeply, that something was still going to be there.

Tom thought about that, and then he thought about whether it even mattered.  So they weren’t normal.  Normal wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.  Not when- “I never thought you saw me that way.  But if you do-” and it hardly seemed like an _if_ anymore, did it?- “you wouldn’t be alone.  In that.”

Phil looked doubtful.

“I swear, yeah?  I wasn’t just letting you, or anything like that.  I liked it.  I felt… that blip on the monitor, yeah, that was… it was a good blip, all right?”

“A good blip,” Phil repeated.  He looked hopeful and amused and angry and charmingly befuddled all at once.   

“Yeah.”  Tom curled his fingers into Phil’s hair.  “Really good.”

He could see it when Phil at least half believed him.  His shoulders slumped a little and his eyes lit with something wary and sharp but _enough_ \- enough, Tom thought, to build a future on.  “The thing is,” he started, and trailed off.

“What, Phil?” Tom asked.  _Tell me.  I’m listening now._  

“The thing is that if it doesn’t work out, if... if it was a good blip now but it wasn’t later on, if you... if you realized you made a mistake... I don’t think I could bounce back from that, you know?  I don’t think things could ever be how they were again.”

“Maybe how they were wasn’t that great,” Tom said.

Phil made a face that was... almost like things used to be, before it all got so complicated.  Like his emotions were pulling him a million different directions, but at least they weren’t threatening to tear him apart.  “No?” he asked.

“No,” Tom said, sure of it now.  “Not if you were that unhappy.  Not if it wasn’t just Calvert making you that way.”

“It wasn’t just Calvert,” Phil admitted finally.  He seemed to settle down a little, his fingertips coming back to brush a few hairs from Tom’s forehead.  “I could never make up my mind if you knew how much I-”

“I really didn’t,” Tom said.  “I never imagined-”

“That’s what your mum said.”

“She talked to you about it?”  It was one thing, to hear from his dad what she had thought about it, about them.  It was another to know that she’d actually brought it up with Phil.  It stung, in the back of his throat and deep in his chest, that he’d never get to talk to her about it. 

Phil’s face softened even more, like he could guess what was going through Tom’s mind.  “Yeah, she did.  She figured it was all going, you know-” Phil whistled, miming something going over his head.

“Right,” Tom said, still feeling that pain.  He had known she was dying, he had seen it coming and said his goodbyes already.  It had made working through what happened easier, but there was still an ache inside of him when he thought about her- thought about how she would never get to see this, whatever this was. 

And he didn’t know what it was.  If Phil didn’t think he could bear to risk losing something more between them and Tom didn’t think he could stand to stay how things were, they were at an impasse.  Oh, he wouldn’t give up Phil’s friendship at any price, but he wasn’t sure he could stop wanting more now that he’d had a taste.  He wasn’t sure how Phil thought he would do so.  Tom let his tongue flick out over his lips, watching with pleasure as Phil’s eyes followed it.  Maybe Phil couldn’t after all.  “C’mere,” he said, patting the bed next to him.  Since it almost always worked on Phil, he added, “Please?”

Phil made a face but, after a moment, obeyed- climbing onto the bed.  Slender was he was, it was still a balancing act for him to get situated on his side next to Tom, but he managed it.  He reached out again to touch Tom’s forehead, his hairline- something Tom found surprisingly affecting, considering that Phil was the one with the fascinating hair. 

“I want this,” he said. "Please.”

Phil let out a breath that swept along Tom’s throat and made his hair stand on end.  "All right,” he said.

It seemed too easy suddenly.  Tom didn't trust things that came so easy.

Phil must have read the confusion on Tom’s face, because his mouth twisted into a crooked smile.  “Everybody wasn’t wrong,” he said.  “Thinking I always wanted you.”

“Everybody?” Tom repeated, thinking of his mother, his father, his most serious girlfriend-

“And Tughan,” Phil offered.  “What do you think he always had such a bee in his bonnet about, with me and you?”

"Right," Tom said, slowly.  Did Kevin think there was already something going on between them, or did he- "What does he think he’s going to do?  Protect my virtue?”

“If so, it’s a shame he's not here,” Phil said, giving Tom a quick there and gone kiss that still warmed him right down to his bones.  “Your virtue is definitely in jeopardy.  My point is that I _did_.  I always wanted you.  But I never made a move, not even with the closest I expected to get to a parental blessing, because I always knew I couldn't- couldn't risk losing you.  But... I also always knew that if _you_ made the move, I’d never be able to refuse you.”

“And that didn’t... it didn’t change?”

Phil’s eyes crinkled with a fondness that was a little sad but still oh-so-sweet and he shook his head. 

Tom swallowed.  He got the sense of having been given something beautiful- and fragile- and it was hard to speak.  Finally he said, “I’m gonna do everything I can not to hurt you again,” he said.  He had never really thought of that as a promise he needed to make to himself, or to Phil.  He had always thought of Phil as too strong for him, that way.

“So maybe things have changed a little.”  Phil kissed Tom a few more times, gently.  “Go back to sleep,” he said.  "You’ll need to rest up, if I’m going to get you home and see about that virtue before we're even older.”

Phil’s tone was flirtatious, but there was something vaguely challenging in his eyes, like he still didn’t completely believe Tom was in this all the way.

But a flash of heat went through Tom at the thought, and Phil must have seen it in his face because his smile finally widened into something big and free, something Tom wasn’t sure he had ever seen before or would ever see enough of.

 _Yeah_ , he thought.  They were going to be all right.  He hoped everyone was as prepared for that as they seemed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [tumblr](http://potentiality-26.tumblr.com/).


End file.
